


Hair

by thewalrus_said



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tangled (2010) Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 11:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6516925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewalrus_said/pseuds/thewalrus_said
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius blinks. He blinks again. The stars in his eyes abate slightly; after the third blink he gives up. He can live with blurry vision. Not the greatest impairment for a thief, but he’ll manage. Honestly, he should count himself lucky that multiple blows to the head with something heavy and metal hadn't done worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hair

**Author's Note:**

> Step 1: Watch Tangled after getting a song stuck in your head on your commute home.  
> Step 2: Realize Flynn Rider is basically your Sirius facecast.  
> Step 3: ???  
> Step 4: Profit!

Sirius blinks. He blinks again. The stars in his eyes abate slightly; after the third blink he gives up. He can live with blurry vision. Not the greatest impairment for a thief, but he’ll manage. Honestly, he should count himself lucky that multiple blows to the head with something heavy and metal hadn't done worse.

The spots, thankfully, choose the moment he resigns himself to his fate to clear, and he sees a scrawny, scared-looking boy standing in front of him, holding a frying pan out in front of him. Upon reflection, Sirius has never liked frying pans. Bloody menaces, the lot of them.

"Hi," Sirius says, dialing up his charm as high as it would go - which is to say, not very, dazed as he is from the previously-mentioned frying pan. "Name's Padfoot." He reaches up to give a jaunty little wave, which is when he realizes that he is tied to the chair he’s sitting in. Tied in human hair. Human hair that flows across the floor and up onto the boy's head.

"Who are you," the boy all but growls, "and how did you find me?"

"Oh boy," Sirius breaths.

Which is how Sirius Black aka Padfoot, Most Notorious and Handsome Thief in the Kingdom, agrees to shepherd Remus Lupin, Sheltered Homebody Schooled in the Arts of Frying Pan Warfare, to the lost princess' lantern thing, in exchange for a bag of _his own_ family heirlooms.

Not that he’s able to do much shepherding for a good long while, as Remus seems determined to run the full spectrum of human emotion over every inch of grass within a fifty-foot radius of the tower. Eventually, Sirius plods over and sits next to him during one of the weeping periods. "You seem conflicted."

Remus gives a watery laugh. "You could say that."

"Tell you what." Sirius slings a hand over the boy's shoulders. "I'm in a good mood today, despite your best efforts with your finest cookware."

"Are you ever going to let that go?"

"As soon as the ringing in my ears dies down, I promise you I shall not mention it again. As I was saying…" Sirius clears his throat dramatically. "I've decided to let you out of our deal. You give me my satchel back, and I'll take you straight home."

Remus, shockingly, seems to actually consider it for a moment. Then he shakes his head. "No. Deal's still on. I need to see the lights."

"Are you sure?" Sirius asks, shuffling closer and dropping his voice. "This is a one-time offer, you know. Straight back to safety, no detours into danger or allergies."

"I'm sure." Remus shakes Sirius' arm off his back and stands. "No matter how many dangers or allergens or - or ruffians. I need to do this."

The catch in Remus' voice gives Sirius an idea. He stands and gestures with his arm to the south. "You got it, then. One trip to the lanterns, completely ruffian-free." He waits until Remus has followed him a few steps down the path before saying, "Hey, are you hungry? I know a great little place not far from here. It's called the Leaky Cauldron."

\--  
In retrospect, Sirius should have guessed that Remus would be able to charm a pub that even Sirius himself had been banned from for the past two years. (No one who drinks there regularly can remember faces from one week to the next, so the ban was largely ceremonial, but still. It's the principle of the thing.)

Remus slides into the booth where Sirius is sullenly nursing a pint, bumping his shoulder and grinning. His cheeks are flushed, despite the fact that he's only drinking lemonade. "You were right," he says, low and happy, and Sirius' mood starts to lift despite his best intentions. "This place is great!"

Before Sirius can say anything, Frank (the pianist) hollers from the window that soldiers were coming, and Gideon (the lonely heart) has Sirius by the scruff of the neck and Remus by the arm, dragging them over to a trapdoor that Sirius had somehow managed to miss, despite his long acquaintance with this particular establishment.

How this leads to a frying pan-swordfight with a stag in a canyon with a surprising number of Sirius' enemies watching is unclear, both in the moment and long after.

Sirius doesn't come back to himself until Remus takes a deep breath and dives underwater, desperately searching for a way out. Sirius follows him and drags him back up to the air, both of them sputtering. "There's no point!" Sirius half-shouts, adrenaline pounding in his ears.

Remus nods, taking a shuddering breath, and then another. "Right, of course not. I'm just - I'm so sorry, Padfoot. You wouldn't be in this if it wasn't for me."

"Sirius," Sirius corrects him, watching the water inch closer to his collarbone. He turns to Remus, who looks confused. "My real name is Sirius Black," he explains. "Someone ought to know."

"Nice to meet you, Sirius Black," Remus says, somehow pulling a sweet smile out of the depths of his obvious misery. "If we're sharing… I have magic hair that glows when I sing."

What.

"I have magic hair that glows when I sing!" Remus repeats, excited.

_What._

Sirius enters a sort of fugue state of shock, which doesn't end until Remus pulls the last strands of hair away from his now-uninjured hand, at which point alarm bells and fireworks start to go off. "Don't freak out!" Remus practically shouts, holding his hands up. Sirius' face must be a sight.

Sirius closes his mouth, takes a deep breath, and then another. "Explain?" he finally manages.

Remus deflates with relief and shuffles a little closer to Sirius on the log. "When I was two," he begins, "I was playing on the lawn and was bitten by a werewolf."

"A werewolf."

"Yes. No more interruptions." Sirius shuts up. "My father, Dumbledore, was able to find a cure, but no one was quite sure what would happen. My hair turned gold, then, and that's when it started having its powers."

"What was the cure?" Sirius asks, after a pause.

"Father never said. All he would say was that it was the only one of its kind, and so people would hunt me, to use me or kill me. But if you cut it, it turns brown and goes all normal." Remus lifts a fall of hair away from his neck, showing Sirius the one short brown lock. "I don't use it that often, only when Father gets hurt. He's been working on a way to extract the cure back out of me, but until then it's not safe for people to know about me. That's why he never let me - that is, I never…" He trails off.

"You never left that tower," Sirius finishes. Remus looks at him, small and miserable, and Sirius' heart breaks for him. "And you're still going back?"

"I don't have a choice." Remus looks down at the ground, running his hands through the hair around his neck. "Father needs me there to extract the cure. It could - I could help make the world better, and I can't risk that. I have to go back."

Sirius really wants to hug him. Instead, he reaches out and pats Remus' shoulder tentatively. After a few moments, Remus shakes out of his reverie and manages a small smile. Sirius grins back and says, "I'll go get some more firewood, shall I?"

"You're the brawn of this operation, after all," is Remus' response, light and teasing. If he seems subdued again when Sirius returns, arms full of firewood and head full of serious questions about his hand's future, Sirius puts it down to residual melancholy.

\--  
_Remus is in danger._

It's the only coherent thought Sirius can string together after he wakes up. The old man - Dumbledore - had calmly explained that Remus was too important to be let free, and thanks to Sirius' efforts the boy would have to be sedated, in order to keep him safe. Then Dumbledore had slammed Sirius' head against a tree, and he had woken in a palace cell. _Remus is in danger._

That mantra keeps him going, step after step because as long as he's moving, as long as he's out of his cell, he has a chance to escape his execution and get to Remus. It keeps the fear down, keeps him focused, until Mundungus Fletcher opens the panel in the door in front of him and asks the guards for a password.

"What?" the guard in front asks.

"Pfft. Nope," Mundungus answers, and slides the panel closed again.

The guards are dispatched almost before Sirius can tell what's happening, and Gideon's broad bulk is in front of him, dragging him down a side hallway. "Remus is in danger," Sirius gasps, blinking up at him and trying not to fall.

"We know. That's why we're here," Gideon answers, before picking him up like he weighs no more than a feather, and _throwing_ him over the external wall that has just opened up.

Sirius lands in a sprawl on a grassy part of the hill that the palace is built on. The grass does little to cushion the blow. "Ow," he moans, and then looks up. "Prongs?" he asks the stag staring down at him. "You came!" The stag lowers his head, and Sirius grabs hold of his antlers to pull himself up and onto Prongs' back. "You know, mate," Sirius says, settling down. "I think this whole time we've just been misunderstanding each other, you know?" Prongs turns to look back at him, somehow looking skeptical despite not having eyebrows. "Yeah, you're right, let's not push it," Sirius says hastily, before the stag changes his mind. "Remus is in danger, let's go."

The stag travels _fast_ , and it's barely two hours before Sirius is stumbling off his back again, rubbing his legs as he approached the tower base. "Remus!" he yells, cupping his hands and bending back. "Remus, it's me!" Remembering something Remus had mentioned during their travel to the palace, he adds, "Let down your hair!"

He waits, one stuttering heartbeat following another, and then the long fall of golden hair pours out the window. He climbs, trying to keep as much of his weight against the tower and off Remus' scalp as he can, and finally hauls himself through the window, gasping, "Remus-"

He's too late. Remus is tied to the same chair that he had tied Sirius to, only a few days ago, and then there's a sharp pain in his side and Dumbledore is stepping over him, knife in hand. "Oh Sirius," he murmurs. "You just had to go and make this worse, didn't you?"

Remus is screaming against the gag in his mouth, eyes wide and panicked, and that gives Sirius the strength to sit up, leaning back against the tower wall, careful to avoid the shards of broken glass from a mirror that had shattered nearby. He manages a shaky wink to Remus, and then finds the breath to say, "You can't do it, can you?"

"Hmm?" Dumbledore asks, looking up from where he's loosening the bonds lashing Remus to the chair. "Can't do what?"

"Can't get the cure back out of Remus." Sirius clenches his hand tighter around his side, blood spilling out onto the floor. "There's no way. You're just keeping him so you can use him yourself."

"You're a bit slow, my boy," Dumbledore says, dropping the rope. "Remus and I have already had this confrontation. Someday we'll be able to extract the cure. In the meantime, it's safer for him to stay with me and I can dispense his power as necessary." He guides Remus to his feet, and then Remus gives an almighty heave and yanks out of Dumbledore's grasp. He hits the floor hard, and the gag slips down over his chin.

"Let me heal him first!" Remus shouts as soon as his mouth is free. Sirius sits up, arm out to silence him, but the pain slices again and he collapses with a gasp. Remus looks at him and then back at Dumbledore. "Let me heal him and I'll go with you, I promise."

"And if I don't?" Dumbledore asks.

"Then I'll fight you, and one day I will escape again, and the second time I won't come back." Remus' shoulders are heaving, near tears, and he darts another anguished glance back at Sirius. "Just let me heal him!"

Sirius' vision has gone spotty from the pain, but Dumbledore must nod, because after a few moments Remus is crawling over, ankles still bound but hands free. "Shh, shh, shh," Remus whispers, hands coming out to peel Sirius' fingers off his side. "Oh, Sirius, I'm so sorry, but it's going to be alright, I promise."

"No, no, don't," Sirius gasps, flailing his unbloodied hand out to stop Remus gathering up his hair. "Don't, you can't -"

"It's okay, Sirius, please calm down." Remus is crying now, and Sirius thinks he is too. "Everything's going to be fine, I promise, you're going to live."

"But you won't."

Remus just shushes him again, hair gathered together and pressed over Sirius' side. Over his shoulder, Sirius can see Dumbledore watching, smug. Sirius lets a spasm of pain slam his hand to the floor, clenching, and he brings the other to Remus' face. "Please forgive me," he whispers, and then he shifts his fingers over Remus' cheek to the thick coil of hair, and slices through it with the biggest shard of glass he could get hold of.

Remus shudders back with shock, and behind him Dumbledore screams. Sirius' vision is seriously blurry now, but he can make out something black and foul creeping up Dumbledore's arm, starting at his fingers, and he runs forward, grabbing for the now-brown hair scattered over the floor. "You-" he hissed, and reaches for Sirius.

"No!" Remus shouts, and he shoves Dumbledore, hard, on a shoulder already covered by whatever miasma is attacking him. Dumbledore shouts in pain, steps away, and then Sirius' vision blacks out completely and he dies.

It’s awfully wet in the afterlife, and his side still aches, although it has lessened. Another drop hits Sirius’ face and the pain subsides fully. He opens his eyes.

Remus is sitting crouched over him, weeping, hair jagged and dull brown around his neck. “Sirius?” he whispers, eyes widening.

“Did I ever tell you I’ve got a thing for brunets?” Sirius asks. Remus lets out a sobbing laugh and then kisses him.

\--  
Remus is quiet on the boat out to the palace, hunched under Sirius’ arm around his shoulders. Sirius gives him until the boat bumps up onto the shore before speaking. “Want to talk about it?”

Remus sighs. “Just nervous.”

“Well, yeah.” Sirius furrows his brow, confused. “Why wouldn’t you be? You're about to meet your parents for the first time. I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

“It’s not just that.” Remus lifts his head and looks up at the castle. “They’re expecting a princess, after all. Not - not me.”

“Ah.” Sirius takes his hand. “Well, they’re in for a lovely surprise, then.” Remus cocks an eyebrow at him. “I can’t imagine any princess as awesome as you.”

Remus laughs at him, which Sirius elects not to be offended by. “Met many princesses in your day, have you?”

“Tons,” Sirius assures him. “Princes too. You’re the best.”

“Well, in that case,” Remus murmurs. Sirius kisses his fingers. “Come on then. Time for you to meet the parents.”

“Is it too late to back out?”

“Shut up.”

\--  
(Reader, Remus married him.)


End file.
